


A Hunter's Journal

by xikra1648



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Action, Collection of one-shots, Demon Dean, F/M, Gen, Humor, Mentions of Sex, Mild Sexual Content, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Rating to Change, Reader-Insert, Romance, Warnings to be added as necessary, deanmon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-15
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2019-02-15 06:33:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13025286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xikra1648/pseuds/xikra1648
Summary: Every hunter kept a journal, each one is a mixture of facts, research, and personal experiences.  They're the closest thing you could ever get to a textbook on the subject, or even a 'Hunting for Dummies.'  This journal is yours.A series of one-shots, mostly starring the members of Team Free Will.  Requests are currently open, also posted on Tumblr.





	1. Paranormal Romance Novels-Dean

**Author's Note:**

> Requests are open, I'll try to get to them ASAP. This series is also an entire Tumblr page (deamonangelus.tumblr.com) I put together years ago, so feel free to post a request either there or here, I'll try to get to it either way.
> 
> Also, for those who haven't seen the mindfuck that is the movie 'Devour,' Jake Gray is the name of the character Jensen Ackles played. Seriously, go watch that movie. It's so horrible it's good in a really strange way, and I'm still trying to figure out what the hell happened. I highly recommend it.

# Paranormal Romance Novels

### Dean Winchester

You’d never admit it but you had a weakness for the cheesy Paranormal Romance novels you find in the grocery store.  As a psychic your favorites were the ones with a spunky psychic helping the sexy detective solve a crime.  Your little sister, Jo, had caught you reading some of your cheesy Paranormal Romance novels and while she never told anyone, she felt no qualms about teasing you.  It was only to be expected, as her older sister you had teased her plenty over her 21 years of life.  Besides, by the age of 23 you could take a little teasing, especially when you could sense it coming.

This particular novel you had picked up specifically because of the man on the front cover.  FBI Agent Jake Gray; a stubborn man who had seen too much and kept the few people he let into his heart as close as he could.  He was depicted as a tall man built like a warrior, with broad shoulders, short dirty blond hair that always ended up in a mess, a square jaw sharp enough to cut glass and was almost always covered in stubble, and an ass like two perfect scoops of ice cream.  One look of his picture on the front cover and you felt weak at the knees.

As you read the book you fell even harder for Agent Jake Gray.  You imagined his voice to be gruff and deep.  He had an old black Mustang he refused to part with and even called his baby.  He fixed up his car himself and had a talent for putting things together with spare parts.  He was a fighter and always managed to keep going, even when it was the absolute last thing he wanted to do, because there were people that needed him.

You would have been jealous of the psychic if she didn’t remind you so much of yourself.  She even kind of looked like you.

You had finished your share of the work and decided to sit at the bar and read until it was time to open up.  Jo was cleaning the last of the glasses when she saw the cover of your book.

“Another one?  I thought you were recovering from the last one.”

“This one’s better.  The psychic, Roxanna Rose Lawson, is actually a lot like me same powers too.  And Agent Jake Gray is just…” you hummed happily before showing Jo the picture of Jake on the front cover, “I mean just _look_ at him!”

Jo tilted her head and looked at the picture, “I’ve seen him before…”

“Hey!” Ash laughed as he grabbed a beer from behind the bar, “He looks like Dean!”

“What?” You turned the book around to take a look at the picture, after saving your spot of course.  Maybe there were some similarities but surely…

“That’s it!  He looks exactly like Dean, if we managed to get him into a suit,” Jo agreed.

“That’s bullshit, there is no way in hell Dean looks anything like-“

As if on que, the door opened and in came the Winchester brothers, both wearing their Fed suits.  Your eyes went wide and you threw the book behind the bar as Jo and Ash laughed.  You didn’t bother glaring at Ash, he’d forget what he was laughing about in a few minutes, but Jo would remember this until the end of time.

“There’s no way Dean looks like what?” Dean smirked as he sat on the bar stool directly to your right,

“Nothing,” you replied shortly as you got up and walked around to stand behind the bar.  You grabbed two glasses and poured two glasses of beer, one for Dean and the other for Sam.  You couldn’t hide the blush on your face and you couldn’t look at Dean for more than a minute without turning an even brighter red and turning away muttering to yourself.  To make matters worse Jo would struggle to hide her laughter every time it happened.  You just about passed out when Dean sent you a flirty smile, like he always did when he visited the Roadhouse.

You couldn’t believe it.  You had a thing for Dean Winchester.

Damn paranormal romance novels.


	2. Kiss Me-Sam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You met Sam through your shared lifestyles, specifically hunting. There was never any other option for either of you, in the end the two of you fully expected to die bloody, or at least alone. Neither of you expected to find each other, and one look at your eyes had Sam falling like he’d never fallen before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A request made on Tumblr
> 
> Hey Hey make a story with sam but you have to use the lyrics to an ed sheeran song

# Kiss Me

### Sam Winchester

_Settle down with me_

_Cover me up_

_Cuddle me up._

_Lie down with me_

_And hold me in your arms._

 

You were both hunters, you knew that when you met.  You were stopping by Bobby’s place, checking up on the old grouch that rescued you from the demons tracking you when you were only 10, and the old man had convinced you to stay for Thanksgiving.  You couldn’t say ‘no,’ he had been the only family you had since your parents were killed, a side effect of coming from an extensive line of untrained and overpowered psychics.  He was sure to teach you, give you the space and everything else you needed to get a grasp on your abilities, and had raised you like you were his own.

You loved that old bastard like he was your own father, even called him _dad_ instead of Bobby.

Of course, being a few years younger than the youngest Winchester, Bobby had saved you a few years after John cut off all ties to his fellow Hunter.  You had never met the Winchester boys, but you saw the pictures and knew Bobby still loved them like they were his own sons, even if he couldn’t see them.

With your busy life, and their own chaotic lives, it was a few years until you actually met Sam and Dean.  You were in the kitchen, you loved to cook, making a big Thanksgiving dinner for the family of four.  You were worried, Bobby loved these boys like they were his own and you wanted them to at least like you.  Little did you know the scent of the apple pie in the oven would be enough for Dean to _immediately_ welcome you as his baby sister.

As for Sam…well…

The second you looked up at him he caught sight of your eyes, _hell_ your eyes were beautiful.

The second he saw your eyes, he started falling for you.

 

_And your heart’s against my chest, your lips pressed to my neck_

_I’m falling for your eyes, but they don’t know me yet_

_And with a feeling I’ll forget, I’m in love now._

 

It was an… _unexpected_ turn of events, to be honest.  After the final seal was broken and the Apocalypse started, Sam didn’t know where else to go.  He knew Bobby would welcome him into his home, but he also knew Dean was going to be there.  Calling you and asking where you were being the logical response… _no_ …it was his _instinctual_ response.  He had come clean to you about everything over that one phone call; the demon blood, Ruby, starting the Apocalypse by killing Lilith, everything.  He was so scared you’d reject him.

You just gave him the exact address to meet you at, and told him the two of you would take some time off until he felt up to hunting again- _even if he never wanted to hunt again._

You hadn’t even thought about it.  You knew what it was like to be the freak in the Hunter community.  Perhaps not _nearly_ as much as he did, but you were still an overcharged psychic and you were still treated like a freak.  Sam needed a safe place, and even without the crush you harbored for him, you were _family_.  More than that, he was one of the closest friends you ever had, you loved Jo dearly, but there was a difference between the freak with the knife collection and the freak that could speak to the dead and move objects with her mind.

He found home with you.  Even as he rejoined Dean and the family was back together again, you were right there with him.  Every second he looked in your eyes he fell farther in love with you, and he couldn’t look away from your eyes.  It was painfully obvious he was utterly smitten with you.  Every second you helped the Winchester brothers fight off the end of the world, he fell deeper and deeper for you.

 

_Kiss me like you wanna be loved_

_You wanna be loved_

_You wanna be loved_

_This feels like falling in love_

_Falling in love_

_We’re falling in love._

Looking into your eyes, he felt ashamed.  He was deeply in love with you, irrevocably in love with you, and he couldn’t bare the thought of what he was about to do.  You knew everything, you were his support system, but he still couldn’t let you see him like this.  Knowing you would never think any less of him wouldn’t have allowed him to let you seem him drinking demon blood by the gallons, only to try to overpower Lucifer himself.  He just _couldn’t_ let you see him like this.  If everything went wrong, he wanted you to remember him as anything _but_ what he was.

He wanted you to remember him as the guy that cuddled with you as the two of you watched crap movies or binged Netflix or Hulu.  He wanted you to remember that, admittedly unwelcome, trip to Heaven the three of you shared as it was revealed meeting you was one of the best memories he had.  He wanted you to remember him as the one you’d trade favorite books with, binge reading as Dean drove the Impala and talking about the books you just read.  He wanted you to remember him from that that first, and possibly last, kiss the two of you shared only seconds before he asked Bobby to make sure you didn’t see him like _that_.

You barely held back the sobs by holding your breath as long as you could, but that didn’t stop the tears or the way you shook.

 

_Settle down with me_

_And I’ll be your safety_

_You’ll be my lady._

_I was made to keep your body warm_

_But I’m cold as the wind blows, so hold me in your arms._

 

Sam had attempted to get you to promise to live a ‘civilian life.’  The two of you argued, you had gotten to the point you were _screaming_ because you couldn’t even _consider_ life without Sam anymore, but you came to an agreement as he held you close.  No matter what happened, you would find a place for yourself, not far from Sioux Falls, and stick to making a living as a Psychic and an expert for Hunters.  You did as you promised, but you still tried to reach out to Sam.  You failed to find a way to free him, but you could at least offer a form of comfort during his suffering.  It took a lot of effort, and a lot of practice, but you managed to reach him, even though his soul was in the deepest pits of Hell, during deep meditations.

You were utterly shocked to see him at your doorstep only 48 hours after speaking with him, last you knew he was still in Hell.  During your, then weekly, deep meditation you reached him yet again and were more confused by the situation.  Sam, even without his soul, felt an inexplicable attraction to you, and a _physical_ need to keep you alive and _close_ when he arrived at your doorstep.

“Sam…” you whispered as you looked up at him, your eyes glistening with tears.  He didn’t answer verbally, instead pulling you into a heated kiss, picking you up with ease and kicking the door to your home shut as you wrapped your legs around his waist.  There was a physical satisfaction from carrying you to your bed and pinning you down against it he couldn’t explain, but he didn’t care.  The sex was, frankly, _euphoric_ , for the both of you.

_Oh no_

_My heart’s against your chest, your lips pressed to my neck_

_I’m falling for your eyes, but they don’t know me yet_

_And this feeling I’ll forget, I’m in love now._

 

It wasn’t until Cas admitted to leaving Sam’s soul in the Cage that you had your answer, and as Sam lie comatose in Bobby’s bunker you could barely leave his side.  As he wandered the land of the living, without a soul, you barely had enough power to reach his mind and keep him from doing things he would regret.

You should have known he was missing his soul.  You should have known.  You were kicking yourself, you couldn’t believe you didn’t figure it out earlier.  You spent hours, sitting by him and wiping the sweat from his brow.  By the time he woke up you had been up for _days_ , despite Dean and Bobby’s attempts to get you to sleep.  They had even slipped you alcohol to try to get you to sleep, Bobby even tried mixing sleeping pills with food, and it never succeeded.  Cas offered what condolences he could, but nobody would feel better until Sam woke up.

You were at your wit’s end, you had run out of tears and couldn’t live with yourself if Sam…

The signs were right in front of you, and you still couldn’t figure it out.  Hindsight is 20-20, but you should have known better-

“[Y/N]?” Sam’s voice was groggy as he woke up for the first time in days, registering it was you before he was conscious enough to register the dark circles under your tired eyes.  Your attention snapped directly to him, and once again he was lost in your eyes.  He didn’t know why his head was pounding, or why he felt what he could only describe as a mental _itch_ , but as he looked up at you he couldn’t say he cared.  You kept telling him it was nothing, something he’d get used to living with.

Something he should just _leave alone_.

He wished he had listened, as visions of Lucifer haunted him and taunted him with the idea that you were just a fever dream.  Being safe with you and Dean was just a pretend world, and any minute he could be ripped from the safety of your arms and your lips against his and land right back in the Cage.  There were times pressing on the cut in his palm didn’t help, and at those times he would desperately seek you out and pull you as close as he could, pressing a desperate kiss against your lips.

 

_Kiss me like you wanna be loved_

_You wanna be loved_

_You wanna be loved_

_This feels like falling in love_

_Falling in love_

_We’re falling in love._

_Yeah I’ve been feeling everything_

_From hate to love_

_From love to lust_

_From lust to truth_

_I guess that’s how I know you_

_So I hold you close to help you give it up._

 

Things had gone unsaid, but understood.  You couldn’t say the two of you ever actually proclaimed your feelings for each other, not seriously anyway.  You _vaguely_ remembered telling Sam you loved him when he got you the Chinese you were craving after about six or seven too many tequila shots with Charlie.  It wasn’t until Dean and Cas disappeared after killing Dick, ending the Leviathan threat, that things were finally put into words.  You would never be able to completely retire, you were a psychic, but Sam had a chance.  You were willing to split up, let him live a peaceful life, but he couldn’t let you go.

“ _Please!”_ he begged, eyes searching yours as he held your hands in his own, “I’ve lost _everyone_ else…I can’t lose you too.  I love you.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” you gently hushed as you pulled him down into a hug, standing on your toes as he was an entire foot taller than you, “I love you too, sasquatch.”

With a small, grateful, smile and a chuckle at your nickname for him, gently bumped his forehead against yours.  You couldn’t help but laugh, calling him a giant nerd and pulling him in for a gentle, loving kiss.  You weren’t going anywhere, you were going to stay right by his side as long as he wanted, for as long as he needed you.

_So kiss me like you wanna be loved_

_You wanna be loved_

_You wanna be loved_

_This feels like falling in love_

_Falling in love_

_We’re falling in love._

_Kiss me like you wanna be loved_

_You wanna be loved_

_You wanna be loved_

_This feels like falling in love_

_Falling in love_

_We’re falling in love._


	3. I Put A Spell On You-Dean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being a witch, surviving years of knowing the Winchesters took more than just luck. It took one of them being particularly fond of you.
> 
> Considering he was now a demon, and Crowley was in need of someone to keep the Knight of Hell under control, you were the first option on the King of Hell's list.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Witch x Deanmon thing is an idea I've had for a long time. It's changed over the years since Season 10 came out, but I haven't actually written anything until now.

# I Put A Spell On You

### Dean Winchester

You weren’t exactly close to your brother, to your defense he had already been a demon for centuries by the time you were born.  Your mother, a centuries old witch, had a bad habit of getting a little too active during the whatever solstice ritual she was participating in.  Frankly, you didn’t want to know how she managed to get knocked up with you, and the second you were old enough to take off you did.

Rowena wasn’t what one would consider a good mother, but she did make sure you were trained.  You were the child she wanted Fergus to be, the revolution to overthrow the Grand Coven.

Too bad you had too many mommy issues to entertain the idea of helping her.

Helping your brother Fergus, or Crowley as the overpowered salesman from Hell preferred, wasn’t out of the question.  At least, not when it was worth your time.  He had recently become associated with a Knight of Hell, one who happened to be a damn Winchester, and was quickly losing control.  Anyone who believed Crowley could stand up to Dean Winchester as a Knight of Hell with the Mark of Cain and the First Blade was about as stupid as it got.

Crowley thought he had the situation under control for a while, until the first time he tried to get Dean to help out on a deal.

_“I’m not gonna’ listen to a damn salesman,” he retorted with a cocky smirk as he tossed back another whiskey, “Not when I look damn good in a crown and I could already take him out when I was human.”_

It wasn’t just your natural born power or clever mind that made you the best choice, but you had a bit of a history with the Winchester boys.  You were two years younger than Sam, and caught Dean completely by surprise when you cut in on a hunt in Boston.  You had been in the area, digging up old magical texts from the survivors of the Salem Witch Trials, when you heard about the poltergeist Dean and John Winchester were hunting.  One flick of your hair and he was smitten, and there was hell to pay when John found out Dean just let you take off.

_“She’s a witch Dean!  Anyone she hurts, that’s on you!” John snapped as he slammed the trunk shut and avoided looking at his oldest son._

To Dean’s defense, he hadn’t known you were a witch.  You made sure to come off as a hunter that knew what she was doing.  It wasn’t for a few years that you returned, Dean was on his way to Hell and your interests were in making sure that didn’t happen.  The apocalypse was bad for your business, and suddenly the Winchesters ended up wrapped up in whatever world-ending disaster threatened the world.

You couldn’t overpower Dean, you weren’t stupid enough to think that, but you were clever and innovative.  You had helped stop the apocalypse, Eve, even the Leviathans and the war in Heaven through a mixture of spells, trickery, and a quick mastery of Enochian and angel magic.  If anyone could worm their way into Dean’s mind, to a point they could control him, it was you.

You weren’t going to do it for free, not when you could easily get whatever you wanted out of the King of Hell, but you were up to the challenge.

Sitting at the bar, hair tied into a low bun with a few long strands falling freely as you drank your half glass of vodka on ice, you stuck out.  Dean recognized the second he saw your back, and while he was imagining the sight of you out of that white knee-length dress and wearing nothing but those brown leather boots, he was immediately suspicious.  It was better to approach you, let you know up front he wasn’t going to fall for whatever tricks you wanted to play, and chase you off.

“Alright, before you start I’m going to admit Crowley brought me here because he thinks I can control you,” you placed your glass back on the bar and turned to speak honestly with the demon, “I’m not even stupid enough to try, let alone actually think I can do it, but he’s offering a lot and I have a few enemies I need…taken care of.  Plus, it would be nice to get spell ingredients for free, bones of dead saints are impossible to find and having an army of demons to track them down for me would be pretty useful.”

“What’s in it for me?” he cut right to the chase as the bartender served up his regular shots of whiskey with a beer chaser.

“Crowley gets off your ass for a while, you have someone that can keep Crowley off your ass,” you offered before a coy smirk graced your lips, “I also happen to know you’ve been imagining what I look like in nothing but my boots, and I have my own room at the hotel next door.  Plus, you’ve got a powerful, clever witch in your debt.”

“You seem pretty confident that you’re strong enough to be useful to me.”

“Because you know I’m strong, you came begging for help dealing with the apocalypse and the Leviathans,” You spoke quietly, just loud enough for the two of you to hear, as you leaned in closely to the man, “Do we have a deal or not?  I’ve got saint’s bones to collect and revenge to plot, and I really don’t want to waste time on a fruitless endeavor.”

Dean barked out a laugh, throwing back the shots of whiskey before grabbing his beer and standing up, “Sounds like we got a deal, let’s go to your room and sign this deal.”

You tossed back the rest of your vodka before sliding off the barstool with an amused hum, leading the horney Knight of Hell to your hotel room with a little extra swing in your hips.  Luring him in was easy, it was making a connection and pushing it deep enough to have an effect, all without him knowing any better, that was going to take time.  Not as much time as you thought it would, not as much time as it should have, but it was still going to take a few months.

 

“You know, the old me would have taken his time, gone the slow and soft route with you.  Taken the time to really romance you,” he taunted as you unlocked the door to your room, towering over you and placing his hands on the doorway to trap you between him and the door.

“That sounds boring,” you replied opening the door, so Dean could push you inside and slam the door shut, flipping the lock and the chain as he pinned you against the door, his entire body pressed against you as he smirked down you with a positively sinful look.

“Don’t worry,” he trailed his hands down to the skirt of your dress before grabbing it and yanking it over your head, “I plan on leaving a few marks.”

“Then what the hell are you waiting for?” You arched your back, the back of your head hitting the door and tilting your head to leave your neck vulnerable.  It was part of the game, part of placing a collar so deeply in Dean’s mind that you could snap him back to attention at the snap of a metaphorical leash.  You’d actively avoided sex with demons until then, despite the cliché of witches and demons hooking up, it was also a bad idea in general.

Dean attached his mouth to your neck with an animalistic growl as he picked you up and carried you to the queen-sized bed.  He fell forward, pinning you down as he ripped your bra and panties until they were nothing but shreds.  You had more, and expendable resources to buy more if the need arose.  Besides, you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t hot.  You weren’t a virgin, one-night-stands had filled most of your free time, but never had they been so into you to rip your clothes off before even bothering with their own.

You reached up to push the blue button-up off Dean’s shoulders, and the demon hovering over you immediately pinned your hands right next to your head.

“If we’re gonna run this little con, you’re gonna need to know who’s in charge.”  Dean emphasized his point by leaving a sharp bite behind your ear, pulling a gasp from you.  Dean grinned wickedly as he pulled back, yanking off his button-up and the gray t-shirt underneath.  You looked up at him, lips parted slightly as you waited.  You were going to be a good girl, but you would also be an idiot if you didn’t recognize the Mark of Cain and the opportunity it presented.

If it was capable of changing the hero hunter burdened with self-doubt into an uncaring demon, surely it had a hold on his soul, or what was left of it.  You could use it as a shortcut to the deepest parts of his mind and soul, but in an attempt to keep him tame and counteract the effects of the mark.

Ironic, if you thought about it.

He wasn’t kidding when he said he was going to leave marks, and he was awfully proud of himself when you walked into the bar wearing a v-neck that showed them off.  It was a convincing rouse, Dean actually believed you were following him around as part of a deal between the two of you.  Hell, for a time Crowley was convinced you were following Dean around like a witch smitten with the big, strong demon.  You didn’t even raise a finger to stop him from killing the man who sold his souls to kill his wife...or maybe the wife sold her soul...you couldn’t say you really cared. 

Innocent bystanders were another story, lightly tracing your fingers around and on the mark you would coo a few words and pout before Dean simply followed you away from the potential murder scene.  You pulled him away from killing Cole, as the soldier tried to get revenge for his father, and tipped Sam off where to find and catch Dean.

Dean was far too dangerous as a demon, for his own good he needed to be cured.  Besides, he was probably easier to control as a human.  The look in his eyes when he saw you in the bunker, the anger when he realized you weren’t there to break him out.  As you tightened the leash, he stared at you with angry black eyes.

Thank god it worked, because he would have killed you if it hadn’t.

You had showered, changed, and you were preparing to take off by the time Dean was back up and about.  He was still shaky, but he was human.  If course, that didn’t change the way the mark changed him...

“I don’t think you should go.”

That caught you by surprise.  You had a love/hate relationship with the Winchester’s, and you hadn’t expected such a sentiment to pass Dean’s lips.

“Seriously?  I’ve manipulated you time and again, and now I can actually control you with a bat of my eyes, and you want me to stay?” You couldn’t help but attempt to lighten the mood as you tossed a bra into your bag, “Don’t tell me this is just for the sex.  I mean it was great but-“

“We need a safety net in case I go off my rocker again, and you managed to keep me from killing a guy that started the fight.  Hell, you just shut me down yesterday-“

“To be fair I didn’t think it was going to happen like that, frankly it was a more powerful reaction than-”

“But it did, and it was...and I think we’d all feel safer if you were around.”  Dean avoided eye contact as he licked his lips like he did when he was nervous or uncomfortable, “I know our history isn’t that great but-”

“You can at least trust me to keep you from going Dexter on everyone, I get it.  I’ll stick around, but I have a few ground rules,” you agreed as you stopped packing and looked at Dean with your head eye and utterly undisturbed by the situation, counting off your requirements on your fingers, “One, I have my own room.  Two, I demand we keep vodka and tequila on stock at all times.  Three, when I suggest a spell to solve a hunt, you don’t ask you just do as I say.  Four, I am not your ‘wing-woman,’ I will not help you pick up chicks, and if we’re gonna hook up again I expect to be bought dinner and drinks at a place that doesn’t serve breakfast all day.  Doesn’t need to have a dress code, but definitely not a place I people can go to in their pajamas.  Deal?”

“You gotta be willing to share that vodka and tequila, help out with the household chores, and the only time you drive Baby is when Sam and I are drunk at the bar and need you to pick us up,” Dean haggled with you.  He wasn’t about to let you just take over.  If you were going to stick around, you were going to be part of the team.

“You’re assuming I’m not going to be getting wasted in the comfort of my pajamas with Netflix, or at least flirting with everyone willing to buy me a drink,” you paused in your bargaining for a moment as realization hit you and you added into the deal, “I also promise to buy pajama pants and never leave my room without clothes or walk around partially dressed.”

Dean wanted to tell you there was no need, he’d thoroughly enjoy the view, but for Sam’s sake it was probably best you walked around with clothes on.

“Alright, deal.”

Walking away with a flick of your hair, you knew Dean was left almost swooning over you.  Just like that, he was the boy you met years ago.  The boy that was smitten with you near immediately.

You had cast a spell over him, in more ways than one.


End file.
